


Lass Ride: Bonus Scenes

by combatfaerie



Series: Lass Ride [5]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Brollins, Don't copy to another site, F/M, One Shot Collection, rollynch
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:40:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25704508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/combatfaerie/pseuds/combatfaerie
Summary: These are bonus scenes for LASS RIDE: 'deleted scenes', what-ifs, scenes that won't fit in the chronology any longer, etc. You don't need to read these to follow along with LASS RIDE, and they won't be posted here in any sort of order. Updates will be erratic.
Relationships: Becky Lynch | Rebecca Knox/Seth Rollins | Tyler Black
Series: Lass Ride [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1566157
Kudos: 3





	1. 1. At the Cabin

**Author's Note:**

> Set a month or so after Becky left her friends in LASS RIDE: CROSSROADS. Becky's invited to the McMahon family cabin, but it's less of a request and more of an obligation.

When Becky heard the word _cabin_ , her mind admittedly went to airplanes—unsurprising, given her work history as well as her mother's. When Hunter and Stephanie had invited her to their cabin, her first thought was that it was less of an invitation and more of a mandatory appearance, like some corporate team-building exercise. At least the scenery would be nice. Despite all her time in Canada, she had never been to a cabin by a lake, so she did a bit of research beforehand to figure out what to bring along. Since it was still autumn, at least she knew she shouldn't have to worry about snow, or at least she hoped not. Hunter had rented a trailer for the Authority—and Becky—to bring their motorcycles along, and she was at least hoping to sneak it at least a few good rides.

Apparently the McMahon definition of _cabin_ and the regular one differed somewhat, because the building in front of her took up most of the western shore of the lake and extended far back into the woods. "This is a _cabin_?" she muttered as she hopped out of Cesaro's SUV. They had needed a convoy to bring all the guests: Hunter and Stephanie and their kids, as well as Becky, Cesaro, Randy, and a few other friends and their partners. As soon as she saw that Randy's wife wasn't coming along, Becky made a point of making sure she and Cesaro left before he could try riding with them. Avoiding him in such a large cabin shouldn't be too difficult, but she knew he would find some way to annoy her.

The sun rooms seemed to work nicely. There was one on the east side and another on the west, one for sunrise and one for sunset, and Becky thought Stephanie and Hunter must have forgot about them entirely, because she was the only one who seemed to use them. They were a bit dusty from lack of use at first, but that was easy enough to remedy, and then she had a tiny little haven—not that anything in the cabin was truly small. The windows allowed her excellent views of the lake, so she could tell when people were coming back in, and the natural light was perfect for reading. She made sure she socialized with the others enough so it wasn't suspicious, but as soon as she had a chance, she was back in one of the sun rooms, basking in the warmth and solitude.

Even when Cesaro found her hiding places, it didn't really bother her. Ever since she had returned to WWE, he had been good about respecting her space; even when he was essentially babysitting her, he gave her as much freedom as he could. It had been raining gently all day and the patter on the windows had almost lulled her to sleep when he knocked on the door. "Oh, were you sleeping?" he asked after she had mumbled a reply. "I can go. I don't want to bother you."

"You're not a bother." Becky didn't want to get up, though. She had sprawled under a light blanket and was quite comfortable. When she started to stir, Cesaro shook his head and sat on the floor, leaning back against the couch she was on. "You don't have to sit on the floor. Just give me a minute and I'll move. . . ."

"I'm fine here, Becky." It was only then that she realized he had a coffee cup in each hand. "I figured you might be avoiding the kitchen because of Randy," Cesaro said, turning at the waist to hand her a cup, "so I thought you might appreciate a coffee."

"Thanks." Becky turned onto her side and cradled the cup in both hands. It wouldn't be as good as some of the gourmet coffees she'd had with Cesaro on the road, but she doubted Hunter and Stephanie skimped either. "No one asked why you had two cups?"

Cesaro's shrug was, like him, elegant and understated. "They know I like coffee. Maybe they thought I was tired. They didn't ask, and I didn't offer."

Becky laughed. "Hey, that's my mantra. Merch is doing up the final designs for the shirt, you know." The cup was almost uncomfortably hot, so she settled for breathing in some of the steam.

"Did you even have a shirt design during your first run?" Cesaro asked. "I remember it taking a ridiculously long time for any of the women to get much in the way of merchandise."

"One or two shirts. Can't complain, I guess. Some women never had any." Becky set her cup on the side table and sat up, keeping the blanket pooled over her lap. "Did you cut your hair?" she asked, leaning closer to the back of Cesaro's head. He told her he'd started shaving it when his hairline was receding too much, but she thought the look suited him.

Cesaro turned to look up at her. "Is that sarcasm, Irish?" While he usually called her Becky—occasionally Rebecca if she was intentionally being a pain—he was trying to be more casual and call her Irish. She wasn't sure if he thought it would remind her of her friends or just make her feel more at home, but she appreciated the gesture.

"Isn't this cozy?" Randy had managed to insinuate himself in the doorway the way some people draped themselves over armchairs. Steam curled around his face as he raised his coffee mug to his mouth. "You both have bedrooms, you know. Unless you have some kink about skylight windows."

"Go fuck yourself, Orton." The words—and the sentiment—were so familiar that Becky thought she had told him off without thinking, but it was Cesaro who had spoken, and idly she wondered if it was the first time she had heard Cesaro swear.

Randy just smirked. "Becky will be done with you soon enough. It didn't take her long to get so tired of Seth that she left her whole group behind, after all." He took another long sip of coffee before adding, "I prefer a bed, though." Then someone called from further down the hall and Randy raised his hand in acknowledgement. "When you get bored, my room's just down the way."

Becky forced herself to stay quiet until Randy left. Then she grabbed a pillow from a neighbouring chair and threw it at the door; it wasn't as satisfying as yelling, but it wouldn't draw as much attention either. "Fucking asshole. I don't know how he managed to convince one woman to marry him, let alone a second one."

Cesaro huffed out a breath and turned to face Becky properly. "Becky, you need to tell Hunter when he's being an asshole." Then he paused and gave her a crooked smile. "Okay, so he's pretty much always an asshole. But Hunter and Stephanie need to know that he's bothering you."

"They won't do anything, so why bother?" Becky looked back up to the skylights. The wind had picked up a bit, lashing rain against the windows. "Or if they talk to him, Orton will just find sneakier ways, and I don't want to have to empty my bag after every event, wondering what he's done. At least this way, it's out in the open. Besides, I've heard worse. I can guarantee you every single woman in this industry has heard worse."

"That's not right, either." Still frowning, Cesaro settled back against the couch, sipping his coffee. "Well, if you ever feel like you can't deal with it on your own, at least tell me, please?"

Becky gave a noncommittal nod. She knew Cesaro meant well, but she had already dragged all of her friends down into her mess because of a decision she made; she wasn't going to endanger Cesaro's career too. "Really, it's fine, though. It's just trash talk. I pretend it's part of a storyline and move on." She tried to lighten the conversation while she drank her coffee and was glad to see the rain finally start to let up. "I suppose it's socialization time again," she said with a sigh, rolling her shoulders. "At least I can hang out with Hunter and Steph's daughters and it still counts."

"The girls all love you. I was helping Aurora with her French and she's doing a presentation on your career," Cesaro said with a smile. "So I imagine you'll have an interview request soon."

"Thanks for the heads up." Using his shoulder for balance, Becky stood. "If it's not raining tomorrow, would you have time for a ride?" She cringed a bit as she imagined what Randy's response would be. "Even out here, I doubt Hunter's going to let me go off on my own."

Cesaro only smiled. "Of course. I don't think Hunter and Stephanie have anything official planned until the weekend, so they shouldn't mind. They'll be glad to see you getting out and doing things."

Becky didn't reply right away. If they truly gave a shit about her happiness, they wouldn't have so many conditions in her contract or make her stay in a cabin—albeit one the size of a small school—with Randy. "Let's hope the weather plays along, then." She finished her coffee and went to the door, hopping back when someone appeared. "Oh, hi, Aurora. I was just coming to find you."

It was apparently the right thing to say, because Aurora's eyes went wide. "Really? I was wondering if you would have time to talk. I know Dad says this is supposed to be like a break for you, but it would just be talking, and I know you're good at talking, and I want to get working on my assignment."

As Aurora paused to breathe, Becky smiled back at Cesaro, who had taken her place on the couch. "What assignment? You brought homework with you?"

Aurora nodded eagerly. "For my French class, we have to do a presentation on someone we admire, and I chose you." She blushed a bit and looked down at her feet. "And I thought since you would be here, maybe you could do an interview with me? Then I'm not taking away your work time." Leaning closer, she dropped her voice and added, "And then you won't have to spend as much time with the boring adults."

Becky laughed at not being lumped in with the 'boring adults'. "Well, I'm sold. Where's a good place to talk? Are you taking notes?"

"I have my phone in my room. I was going to record it, if that's okay? I won't post it online or anything," Aurora promised quickly. "But if I record it, then I can listen to it and make notes later."

"Sounds good. See you later, Cesaro. Keep an eye on the weather." Becky waved as she stepped out into the hall.

Aurora's project kept Becky busy for a few hours, and then Murphy and Vaughn demanded equal time, of course, and it didn't take long until the day was filled up and Becky could claim exhaustion and head to bed. She was tempted to text her friends, but the cabin seemed to have every technological gadget she could think of, and she didn't want Hunter or Stephanie somehow intercepting her messages. She had already warned Charlotte and the others that she would be away for a week, so they shouldn't worry. A friendly word or in-joke would have been welcome, though.

The next morning, Becky was relieved to see a sky full of unrelenting sunshine with nary a cloud in sight. Breakfast was mandatory—though hardly a burden, thanks to the cooking staff at the cabin—but after that, she and Cesaro should be able to head out for a ride. Or so she thought. She had been vaguely surprised not to see Hunter at the table, especially when he insisted his daughters eat their meals on time, but now he appeared in his road clothes: leather jacket, Motorhead t-shirt, scuffed-up jeans, and sturdy boots. Most people found Triple H intimidating in this garb—it was his no-nonsense attire, often accompanied by his trusty sledgehammer—but Becky worried more about dealing with him when he was wearing a well-tailored suit. "Lynch," Hunter called out, pouring himself a cup of coffee from the nearly empty carafe, "up for a ride?" His tone might have been casual, but his question didn't sound like a request in the least.

All three of his daughters protested at once, each staking a claim on Becky's time, and Becky herself glanced over at Cesaro, who barely lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Um, sure." She grabbed her last slice of toast and stood. "Just let me get my phone."

Hunter looked at what she was wearing and scoffed. "Wear jeans at least, not leggings. You'll shred the hell out of your legs in those if you fall."

"Dad!" Aurora's voice rose above the rest. "You get to talk to Becky whenever you want! You promised we'd have time to hang out with her this week!"

"And you will." Hunter finished his coffee and set the cup by the sink. "But not right now. Besides, someone needs to walk Attila and your mother's busy this morning."

In all honesty, Becky would have preferred volunteering to walk the huge Mastiff, but she doubted she would be allowed to switch places. While Hunter debated with his daughters, she ran upstairs to her room and shut the door before Randy could make an unwanted appearance. Her phone was on the dresser, but it took a while for her to find a pair of jeans. She put on her motorcycle boots too, hoping to spare herself another lecture, and grabbed her leather jacket, purse, and phone before heading back downstairs. When she returned to the kitchen, Hunter was still arguing with Aurora, but Cesaro was gone, giving Becky a spark of hope. "Is Cesaro coming too?" she asked.

Hunter gave her a brief glance. "No. Aurora, go help your mother, please. Vaughn and Murphy, behave yourselves. Becky and I will be back by lunch."

_By lunch?_ Granted, she had woken up later than usual, but lunch—at least by the cooking staff's reckoning—was still hours away. "We can finish up our interview this afternoon, Aurora. I promise. And Murphy and Vaughn, you both owe me an Uno rematch." That seemed to placate the girls a little bit, at least, and then Becky and Hunter were able to leave with a minimum of fuss.

Hunter's helmet had a wireless connection for his cell phone, but Becky's was more generic, so she didn't have to worry about too much conversation on the way. After a while, even she had to admit that riding with just one other person was nice. She missed her friends desperately, but riding in a big cluster could make it feel slower than it was. Now she felt like she had more freedom to move and at the next stop light, Hunter motioned for her to take the lead. With him out of sight, she could almost believe that she was just out for a weekend ride by herself—a luxury she hadn't had for weeks now. 

When they reached a long straightaway, Hunter came up alongside her again, gesturing for a left turn up ahead. Since he clearly had a destination in mind, she let him take the lead again. _When he's like this—when he can just be himself—he's not that bad,_ Becky thought. It had to be exhausting to be married to a McMahon, to be thinking about business angles all the time. How much downtime did he ever get? Even now, he was chaperoning her, trying to keep Orton in line, and being a father; when did he ever get to stop being Hunter and just be Paul?

The road they turned onto gradually got bumpy, so they both slowed down as it led into a forested area. Becky wasn't sure where Hunter was planning to go, since there didn't seem to be anything aside from trees—standing trees, leaning trees, fallen trees nearly blocking the road—but then he pulled off to the side and stopped. "What do you think?"

The air was gloriously clean and sharp, and the only sounds—aside from their bikes cooling down and the creak of leather—were birdsong and the movements of small animals. "The cynical part of me says this would be a good place to hide a body." She didn't think Hunter meant her any harm, but she was doubly glad Randy hadn't been invited along. Thankfully he smiled, or at least smirked, so she knew he hadn't taken the comment the wrong way. "Other than that, it's nice."

"And quiet. The cabin is only one of those things. Come on." Hunter never struck her as the outdoorsy type, but he seemed quite at ease heading into the trees, ducking the low branches and holding some out of the way for her. After a few more minutes of walking, they emerged on the bank of a small river. "The cabin is a McMahon thing. Steph and I will probably inherit it, but who knows with Vince? This," he said, gesturing around at the looming trees and sparkling water, "belongs to just Steph and me. No plans to develop it yet. I'd like to keep it like this for a while, at least until the girls are all grown. I want them to have a place like this while they're still young."

_Where they can sneak off with their friends?_ Becky wisely didn't say that aloud. "It's nice to have an escape like this. Do you come out here often when you're at the cabin?" She thought about asking how much of it he and Steph owned, but it wasn't her business and she wouldn't have had a good sense of the dimensions anyway.

"I'll ride out here a few times, yeah. It's nice to get away, even if it's just for an hour." Then Hunter pointed downriver, and Becky could just make out an old bridge. "Don't worry. It's stable. I made sure it was up to code before I ever brought the girls out here. You know what they're like." Motioning back towards the road, he added, "Our bikes will be fine where they are. Come on."

The bridge looked further away than it was. Becky had been dreading a long walk, at least on the bumpy paths, but it only took them a matter of minutes to reach the bridge and sit down, letting their legs dangle above the water. The burbling of the river below almost instantly put her at ease. "Must be easy to lose track of time out here. . . ."

"Was that a hint?" Hunter pulled his phone from his jacket and showed Becky a tiny bell in the task bar. "I set an alarm, just in case. My daughters like to hold me to my word. I said we'd be back for lunch, so we will be." Then he cleared his throat as he tucked his phone away. "So . . . regrets?"

Becky shook her head. "No. No, this is relaxing. I was almost falling asleep in the sun room when it was raining. It would probably be easy enough to do here too."

Laughing, Hunter shook his head. "I meant more in the general sense, Lynch. Do you regret coming back to WWE?"

There was no good way to answer. If she said no outright, Hunter would know it was a lie and he would start doubting her word. If she said yes too emphatically, she might sound ungrateful for the opportunity that hundreds of young wrestlers would covet. "A bit," she admitted. There was enough truth in that for her not to feel guilty, and enough wiggle room that she could guard herself. "Regrets come with every decision, good or bad. I miss my friends. I won't lie about that. I miss the . . . freedom of the indies. It was less secure, at least financially, but I felt more involved in the process. But I also got to reconnect with friends here, like Naomi and Natalya. And WWE has less pressure, in some ways." When Hunter laughed at that, she joined in. 

"And being the only Horsewoman here," Hunter added, "is that the same too? Part good, part bad?" 

He sounded like he was genuinely interested, and when Becky glanced over, Hunter was watching her steadily. It wasn't his intimidating gaze, though, or the Authority one, but the one she had seen in clips of his early WWE days, before he was established. "Yeah," she said slowly. "Like I said, I miss them. I miss them a lot. They're like sisters to me. But . . . there are fewer shadows to get lost in here, I guess. That's nothing against Charlotte or Sasha or Bayley. But it's easy to step back when you know someone else will step up. Here, the only one taking care of me is me. If I screw up, it only affects me."

Hunter nodded slowly. "That makes sense. You know Shawn is like a brother to me, but when he left, it finally felt like people were looking at _me_ , not just Shawn's friend." He rested his arms on one of the railing's crossbars. "So what about the others—Roman, Dean, Seth? Renee?" He said each name with the same even tone, but Becky was sure he paused before Seth. 

Becky shrugged lightly. "I miss them too, of course. You know what's it like, travelling on the road with a small group—especially in the indies. Roman and Dean are like brothers: sometimes annoying, but I always knew they had my back. And Renee is always great: she was like a sister without the baggage of the Horsewomen and all the competitiveness we had." She didn't really want to discuss Seth—not with Hunter, who had tried to deploy him against the Four Horsewomen like a weapon—but if she talked about everyone _but_ him, the omission would be too obvious. "And Seth's . . . a different story." She went quiet for a moment, wondering if Hunter would force the matter.

"For what it's worth, I was never a fan of the seduction angle." Hunter rolled his eyes and held up a hand to stave off her inevitable objection. "I know that's easy for me to say after the fact. You have no proof. Believe what you want. But that was Steph's thing, not mine. Ask Seth himself if you don't believe me. You were the one I wanted back the most. I know it was supposed to be about Ric and getting Charlotte back so the Flairs were reunited, but I was looking beyond that."

Becky was listening, but she knew better than to be flattered. If one of the other Horsewomen had been sitting where she was, the story would be completely different. That didn't mean what Hunter was saying wasn't true, though, so she did let herself feel a tiny spark of pride. "The only one taking care of me is me," she repeated blandly. "Seth didn't force me to do anything. I'm not going to blame him for the choices I made."

"You don't owe them anything, you know," Hunter said softly. "They owe you. You don't have to . . . keep yourself in abeyance for the duration of your contract in WWE. You can make new friends, date, whatever. You know that, right?"

"I know that you know the word _abeyance_ , apparently," Becky laughed. Making a joke was easier than addressing the issue at hand. "Or is that from a homework assignment?"

Hunter narrowed his eyes, but his chuckle was hearty, the one he rarely used unless his daughters drew it out of him. "Both." Then he shook his head, a look of wonderment on his face. "I'll tell you, Lynch, if someone had told me when I was starting out that I was going to marry the boss's daughter and have three kids who might inherit the company, I would have pissed myself laughing. But here we are."

"Here you are."

"I'm just saying you have to leave yourself open to possibilities. Don't hold yourself back because your friends aren't here. Maybe this is just what you need to take things to the next level." Hunter rapped his knuckles on the nearest railing post. "There's your dad speech of the day." The corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk. "Thanks for the practice."

Becky allowed herself a wistful smile. "Roman was the dad of the group. As much as I would make fun of him for it, I do miss the speeches once in a while."

"Well, whenever you need one, I'm around." Then Hunter steered the conversation in random directions, from asking questions about Ireland to what she thought about a potential Queen of the Ring tournament for the women's division. Having his undivided—and receptive—attention felt like speeding down the highway: slightly dangerous, but mostly invigorating. Becky didn't delude herself into thinking her suggestions would necessarily be put into play, but even just being able to say them to someone in management felt like a start. When the alarm on his phone went off, Becky was almost sad to leave. "That's us."

"That's us."

With little else to say, Hunter and Becky returned to their bikes, put on their helmets, and rode back to the luxury cabin. The ride back seemed far too short to Becky and in no time at all, they were parking their bikes back in the garage and heading for the door that led into the house. Before she could open it, though, Hunter stopped her. "At least think about what I said, Lynch. I have no doubts that you'll be successful here. But I'd like it if you could be happy too."

"I know." Becky stepped inside and was instantly mobbed by Murphy and Vaughn, eager to claim her since lunch was delayed and Aurora was busy. "My public awaits," she said, smiling at Hunter as two of his daughters led her away, not even letting her take off her boots. Becky dutifully followed, trying to listen to both girls as they rambled on about something Attila had done while she and Hunter were gone, but her mind was elsewhere, thinking about the future she had expected and the future she could have and wondering how to combine them into something even better.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set a month or so before CHANGING GEARS. Seth still feels like he's on the outs with The Shield and the rest of the Four Horsewomen, but then Roman invites him on a ride.

"Rollins, get out here."

Seth stared up at the ceiling of his rented room and swore under his breath. Roman had found them a wonderful house; between his connections and discerning eye, he almost always did. Since they were in Florida, this house had a pool big enough for them all to do laps without colliding, and that's where most of them were. He, on the other hand, was wallowing by choice. Becky had been gone for a while—Weeks? Months? He didn't want to count, because that meant thinking about it—and he still missed her. Some mornings he woke up and half expected to find her in the kitchen, monopolizing the toaster or huddling around a cup of coffee. The only contact any of them had with her these days, though, was by phone; she had managed to sneak into a few of their indie events, but her schedule rarely coincided with theirs.

" _Rollins!_ " The second bellowing of his name was followed by stomping feet.

"Fuck off, Roman," Seth muttered to himself, shutting his eyes. Trying to fit in with The Shield and the Four Horsewomen had been worth it when Becky was there, but now he wasn't sure why he bothered. They were treating him better in general, but he still caught hints of disdain in their gazes when they didn't think he was looking. As far as they were concerned, he was the reason Becky wasn't there and given the choice between the two of them, Seth had absolutely no doubt who they would pick.

"Rollins!" Now the thumps were at his door— _on it_ , more specifically, making it rattle in the frame and causing Seth to wonder if all these house owners knew they were renting to a bunch of travelling wrestlers. If they did, they might not be so keen, no matter how much they were paid.

Seth had to give Roman a bit of credit, though: for as hard as he was knocking, he didn't try to force the door open. _Maybe he's afraid I'm jerking off or something,_ Seth thought as he forced himself to sit up. "Yeah, what?"

After another moment of hesitation, Roman opened the door and stepped into the room. "You sick or something? Why aren't you out at the pool? Normally you're the first one in the water."

_When you aren't asking me to do some ridiculous penance, you mean._ But Seth didn't say it out loud. He was there because he chose to be and he knew it. He had originally left to be with Becky, and now he stayed with the others because it was easy to, mostly; maybe they didn't accept him fully or include him in everything, but otherwise they weren't bad. They were good wrestlers, fun company, and considerate housemates, and finding travel partners with all three qualities was a tall order. Things could be better, of course, but they could be a hell of a lot worse. "Not in the mood." His tone wasn't exactly curt, but he hoped Roman got the hint that he wasn't exactly in the frame of mind for company.

"In the mood for a ride, by chance?" Roman pointed to Seth's motorcycle helmet, perched on the vanity. "There's something nearby I want to show you."

Seth stayed quiet for a moment, listening to the sharp splashes and loud hoots of the others in the pool. "They don't seem to be in a hurry to get out of the water," he remarked, "and the sun's going down in a few hours, so we couldn't go far." While Roman had faith in their driving skills, he knew motorcycles could be difficult for other motorists to spot in the dark, so he liked to avoid night rides if they could.

Roman shook his head. "It's not far. We'd be there and back in an hour, tops." Crossing his arms over his chest, he added, "And they're not coming. It's just us."

If Seth hadn't known Roman at all, he would have been terrified: the big man looked like the type of guy who played a mob enforcer in movies, sent to rough up members of a rival operation or business owners who hadn't paid their protection money. In reality, though, Roman was one of the kindest people Seth had ever met—just not always to him. When he talked to his wife and kids on the phone, his face shone with tenderness; he gave relationship advice to Dean without a hint of being patronizing, and treated Renee and the Four Horsewomen—three, now—with the utmost respect. "Why? At supper, Bayley was just saying how much she missed the open road. . . ."

Nodding, Roman leaned back against the door frame. "I know. We'll all go for a nice long ride tomorrow. Make a day of it. But right now there's something I want to show you. Are you in?"

Seth looked down at himself. Since he had been planning to make it to the pool eventually, he was just wearing swim trunks. "Sure. Give me five minutes." It didn't take him that long to get dressed and find his riding boots, but he wanted a bit of thinking time to try figuring out what Roman had planned. He was fairly certain it wasn't anything nefarious, but that didn't mean he wasn't getting Seth away from the others so he berate him without worrying about Bayley or Renee protesting.

Roman nodded again and reached for the doorknob. "Sounds good. I'll meet you in the garage." He shut the door behind him when he left.

Finding clothes to wear was easy enough; it was always socks that Seth managed to lose. After he found a pair and tugged them on, lacing up his boots in a hurry, he jammed his phone in his inner jacket pocket and took a moment to lament that for all the freedom being on a motorcycle gave him, wearing all the gear in the Florida heat felt heavy and oppressive. _He said an hour there and back,_ Seth reminded himself, grabbing sunglasses from his bag as well before tucking his helmet under his arm. At least when they got wherever they were going, he could take off the helmet and jacket for a while.

The garage was out front, so he didn't have to worry about any of the others asking where he was going. Seth suspected they knew anyway. When it came to anything major for the group, he was usually the last to know and he was generally told the least. "Is this why you had me pull in last?" he asked Roman when he reached the garage. Normally Roman made sure Seth was one of the first to park so he would have to wait for all the others the next morning.

Roman didn't even try to deny it. "Yeah. Figured it would be easier than getting everyone to move their bikes later." He revved his motor loud enough that someone across the street peeked out between their curtains to see what was going on; it made Seth wonder if anyone who lived in the neighbourhood had a motorcycle. "Come on. Let's go."

Seth straddled his bike and pulled on his helmet, knowing how much his hair would frizz up later. It was one of many things Becky used to tease him about, and every once in a while he would send her a picture of his helmet hair. They were supposed to keep their communications as untraceable as possible—calls only, no pictures, and texting only if they used a special app—but he was pretty sure they had all cheated in that regard. "Which way?" he asked.

"Follow me." That was the last Seth heard from Roman for the rest of the ride as they worked their way around the outskirts of the city to an older neighbourhood by the beach. Then Roman pulled off the main roads and started winding through some residential streets, keeping his speed and his noise level down out of respect for the locals. 

When they finally stopped at a large but rundown-looking hotel, Seth was confused. "What's this place?" he asked when they parked in a small gated area. He couldn't see any other vehicles parked on the property, but they also hadn't gone around to the other side. "Is this where we're staying next time?"

Roman grinned. "Sort of." He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a formal-looking set of keys to open a padlock on another gate, this one even taller than Seth. "Follow me."

Seth did, craning his neck when they entered a courtyard area with a huge pool in the centre, currently drained. "A bit outdated," he said, noting the chipped walls and scuffed pool tiles, "but there's lots of space and it's not far from the beach. . . ."

"And it's mine. Well, the family's. The Usos and I bought it, but it's for the whole clan, you know? A place where we can get together and not worry about not having enough room for everyone." Roman gestured up to the highest balconies overlooking the courtyard. "The lower floors aren't too bad, but the top ones definitely need a lot of work. It was a house first—"

"I think you mean _mansion_ ," Seth replied, walking around the pool slowly. He was no expert, but the basic structure seemed pretty sound. It just needed updating and then Roman's family would have a gem on their hands.

"House," Roman repeated with a laugh, "but the last owner turned it into a hotel, so it's a bunch of separate suites now—which is perfect for what we want. We just need to add some extra features, upgrade the bathrooms, that sort of thing. There had been plans to convert it to condos, but those fell through and we got it for a great price. Now that our parents are getting older, we realized how much we needed a place like this."

"I can imagine." Seth envied Roman's close-knit family in a lot of ways, but the thought of having a family gathering so large it required an entire hotel was rather daunting. "So are we all coming out here tomorrow to help clean or what?" As much as he had enjoyed the ride and even looking at the vintage architecture of the hotel, he was still trying to figure out what Roman's point was.

Shaking his head, Roman sat on the edge of the empty pool and dangled his legs over the side. Without any water in it, the pool felt eerie somehow. "Who did I say bought this place?"

Roman's tone hadn't been harsh at all, but Seth still felt like he was taking a pop quiz as he sat down beside him. "Uh . . . you and the Usos, right? Well, you said it was for the family, but—"

"No, you're right. You're right." Roman gave Seth an appraising look. "You know who Jimmy's married to, right?"

Seth scrolled through the rosters of wrestlers in his head. Even if he wasn't in a certain promotion, he liked to keep up with who was doing well and who was just starting to shine. "Naomi, right?"

"Right." Roman's grin was growing steadily. "And you know who Naomi's tight with, right?"

_Naomi's been so sweet to me. She welcomed me back as if I had never left._ Becky's voice floated through Seth's thoughts, affection tinged with tears. Becky had said she didn't have major issues with anyone in the women's locker room—how true that was, Seth didn't know—but she made a point of saying how awesome Naomi was. When he tried to say Becky's name out loud, though, Seth's voice got tangled up in his throat.

Roman took pity on him. "Becky. The Usos and Naomi are trying to convince her to take a week of holidays in January and come here with them since they know she likes the warm weather," he continued, "and that week just happens to coincide with a week we have off. . . ."

Even in his dazed state, Seth could do the math. "We're going to get to see her?"

"Hopefully. Obviously they need to get the time off first, but if they can't get that week, then we'll reschedule." Roman's eyes were still bright with excitement, but the rest of his expression sobered. "But we want this to be a surprise for her. She's obviously had a rough few months, so we thought it would be cool to keep this a secret."

"I won't tell her a thing," Seth vowed. He wouldn't have been surprised if Roman had laughed at his earnestness, but he didn't care. If it meant getting to see Becky again, even just for a week, he would do whatever he could to make it happen. Not mentioning it to her was going to be difficult, but it would be so worth it in the end. "The others. . . ?" 

Roman gave a small shrug. "They already know. They haven't seen the place in person, though." Leaning back, Roman looked up at the sky. "Just some pictures."

Seth wasn't surprised by that, but his lack of irritation did shock him a bit. He had just been thinking about how he hated being on the sidelines, an afterthought, but the prospect of seeing Becky again was making all those little grievances seem pale. "I understand. Thank you for trusting me with this." He wasn't sure how long the others had known—days maybe, or possibly weeks—but he couldn't let himself focus on that. Roman had at least told him, after all, not just arranged more matches in Florida for a given week and then have them all show up at the hotel, surprising Becky and Seth both. It wasn't a huge leap of faith, but it was a step at least.

"Don't spoil it for Becky." Roman was trying to make his voice stern, but it didn't quite work. He missed Becky too—they all did—but Roman felt almost as guilty as Seth did for the choice Becky felt she had to make. "She'd like spending time with Jimmy and Jey and Naomi too, don't get me wrong. But I think it would be nice if we could surprise her."

"I won't," Seth promised again. It was going to be hard, especially since it was his turn to call her that night, but telling her would be selfish on his part—and potentially get her, Naomi, or the Usos in trouble none of them deserved. "So when are the others coming out here?" he asked. Bayley would probably want to go to the rooftop to see if there were any birds' nests, Sasha would go with her to see the ocean view, Dean and Renee would sneak off for a quickie somewhere, and Charlotte would be checking out the nearby boutiques. 

Roman scooted back and stood up. "I wasn't planning on bringing them here yet," he said simply. "If we have time at the end of the week, maybe, but. . . ."

Seth's eyebrows spiked up. He had been thinking this trip was going to be some sort of admonishment, with Roman simply wanting some space from the others so he could let loose and yell at Seth as much as he had surely been wanting to. "So why did I get to come?" Calling it _a tour_ would have been a stretch, but since he had no desire to get tetanus from a rusty nail, Seth was quite happy to wait for a proper tour until some of the renovations had been done. 

"Because I wanted you to see what we could do for Becky if we work together. Listen, I know I wasn't the nicest to you at the start. I'm not even necessarily being that nice to you right now," Roman admitted easily as he dusted off his jeans. "But I'm starting to see why Becky likes you, and since she seems to keep on liking you, that means we need to get used to you being around. We can keep butting heads, or we can learn to work together. I know which I'd prefer."

"Same." Seth scrambled to his feet and held out his hand, which Roman shook without hesitation. "Did the others know we were coming here?"

Roman shook his head. "Not here specifically, no. They knew I wanted to talk to you about this, and I didn't want any interruptions. Plus I wanted to see the place in person. It's been a while."

As they gathered their helmets and headed back to their bikes, Seth glanced around at the general neighbourhood. "I'd say we could bring back coffees," he offered, "but there's nowhere to put them."

"Don't worry about it. We can order in some pizza when we get back if they haven't already." Roman paused after locking up the gate behind them. "Some guys can be great wrestlers and shitty people. Others are mediocre wrestlers but amazing guys. You have the potential to be both if you want to. Don't forget that."

"Thanks." It was a compliment steeped in a critique— _You have the potential to be both . . . but you aren't yet_ —but Seth knew it was valid. When he first joined The Shield and the Four Horsewomen, the second-class treatment rankled him because he thought he didn't deserve it; now it annoyed him because he could see why they thought he did. The next step was proving why he didn't.

The ride back to the rental house seemed shorter, and Seth chalked it up to not having the weight of worry and anticipation on his shoulders. "Who wants pizza?" Roman called out after they locked up the garage for the night and headed into the backyard. When he was met be unanimous cheers, he added, "Who wants to pay for it?"

Stretched out on a lounge chair, Charlotte laughed. "A gentleman doesn't make offers he can't fulfill."

Roman mimed looking around the yard. "Where's this gentleman you're talking about? I just see a bunch of beautiful ladies in bikinis and some wrestler dudes."

"I've got it," Seth offered, pulling his phone out of his jacket. "And Dean can cover delivery and tip."

"The asshole tax, you mean." Dean planted a sloppy kiss on Renee's cheek before hauling himself out of the pool. "Will a twenty cover it?"

Seth did some quick math and nodded. "Yeah, I think so."

"Cool." Then Dean sank back into the water. "Grab a twenty from my wallet then."

_What's with all the sudden trust?_ Seth wondered as he went back into the house, leaving his jacket and helmet in his room before heading to Dean and Renee's. Dean's wallet was, to his surprise, not a chaotic mess of crumpled bills and folded bits of paper, so it was easy to find a twenty. Then he went back to his room to order, using his free hand to unlace his boots. Once the order was placed, he changed back into his swim shorts and returned to the pool.

No one mentioned his solo trip with Roman. They simply started talking about their proposed week off in January and all the things they could do. The group chatted so long over the pizza and then some beers that Seth almost lost track of time. "Shit! I still have to call Becky." He nearly knocked an empty pizza box into the pool as he lurched to his feet. 

"She's in Colorado this week, isn't she?" Bayley asked. "So she's a couple hours behind us."

Seth knew she was right, but he wanted as much time with Becky as he could get. Gesturing to the remains of the pizza and beer, he asked, "Do you want help cleaning up or . . . ?"

Smiling softly, Sasha shook her head. "Go talk to our girl. We've got this. The trash can's already in the yard, so it won't take long."

"Thanks." Seth dried off quickly so he wouldn't leave a trail of water throughout the house—or slip and hit his head—and hurried back to his room, shutting the door. They were trying to do more individual calls with Becky so she didn't get overwhelmed, and everyone was pretty good about not interrupting someone else's time with her, but he still wanted a few minutes where he didn't have to worry about anyone listening in at his door. Grabbing his phone, he flopped down on his bed, wincing when some wet curls slapped him across the face. 

"Hey," Becky answered warmly, her face only half in view. "Isn't it late there? You're in Florida this week, aren't you? That means it should be . . . oh, wait, I can't check time zones on the phone while I'm on a call. . . ."

"It's fine," Seth assured her. He would have stayed up all night to see her if he had to. Peering closer at the screen, he laughed. "What are you wearing?"

"Normally when you ask that," Becky laughed, "it sounds a lot sexier." She tugged at the high collar of her sweatshirt. "I'm in Colorado, remember? It's cold!" A flap of blue and grey plaid eclipsed the screen for a moment as she pulled a blanket over herself. "I'm wearing a sweatshirt and pyjama pants and the fluffy reading socks Nattie got me, and I'm still cold." Then she laughed again. "Why, what are _you_ wearing?"

"That definitely sounds sexier than my version did," Seth replied, grinning as she blushed a bit. Once he was sure she was looking at the screen, Seth angled the phone so she could see his swim shorts. "We were in the pool."

"Lucky." There was definitely more than one way to read the darkness in her eyes and Seth knew which one he favoured. "I miss being warm. From here we're going to Washington and then doing the Western Canadian leg of the tour, so I better get used to it, right? She wriggled deeper into her cocoon of blankets. "But Naomi said something about getting a week off before the Rumble because Jimmy and Jey have some business to deal with in Florida, and she said I was welcome to come along." Seth was sure his expression gave him away, but Becky mustn't have noticed, because she was still talking. "I don't think Hunter—well, Vince, let's be honest—will give me time off again so soon, though, not when I'm going to Ireland for Christmas."

"You get to go home for Christmas?" Seth seized on the change of subject so he didn't let anything slip. "That's good. Your family must be excited. And you too, of course."

"Yeah." Becky's gaze seemed far away. "I am. I'm just . . . My mom can always tell when I'm upset about something and I've been able to put her off over the phone, but I won't be able to when I'm there. Otherwise I'm definitely looking forward to it."

"It might help to talk to her about it," Seth replied. "You know you can talk with any of us, but since we're part of the. . . ." What to call it? _Problem_ sounded so negative and _issue_ felt like something you'd hear in therapy. "Situation?" He winced as it came out of his mouth. _Situation_ was a word for a political faux pas, not this.

Becky chuckled. "I know what you mean. But I'm good. Naomi's being great, obviously; all the girls are. At this point, it's just me."

_Come back_ , he wanted to say, but that was hardly fair. She had made the sacrifice for him, after all, for him and all her friends, and the contract she signed with WWE had a bunch of restrictions in it, not least of which was a no-compete clause for a full year, not the standard ninety days. He couldn't expect her to leave everything behind to travel around with her friends while they got to wrestle and she didn't. "You should get another blanket or something. You're making me cold just looking at you."

"You didn't look very cold to me." Becky's eyes flicked away from the screen for a moment and she fell silent; Seth assumed she had heard something outside her hotel room door. "Maybe we should trade."

Seth grinned. "You'd definitely look better in these shorts than I do."

Becky blushed a bit as she adjusted her pillow. "I don't think so. They'd fall off."

"Glad you see my point," Seth winked. "I miss you. We all do."

"I miss you too—all of you. Do you have any northern dates coming up? I know the cities are far apart," Becky hedged, "so I'd have to fly, but. . . ."

Seth shook his head sadly. "The last schedule I saw has us in the south-east for the next two months." He pursed his lips, wondering if he had given too much away. He hadn't said that after she mentioned the potential of a vacation in Florida with Naomi and The Usos, though, so he figured he was fine.

"If I get time off for Florida," Becky suggested, "maybe I can sneak away for a day and meet up with you guys."

"That would be good. Let us know what Hunter says." Then Seth did his best to steer the conversation away from talk of Florida and visits and warm weather so he didn't cave and spoil the surprise. Video calls with Becky were better than voice ones, but if he had the choice of being with her in person, being able to hug her again—maybe more, hopefully more—he would do whatever he had to in order to make that happen. Until then, watching her face on a tiny screen would have to do.


End file.
